Nobody's Hero
by Surreal
Summary: A story about the burden of the past upon today's mind... even the mind of the perfect soldier.


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NOBODY'S HERO

** **

** **

"I must not stop fighting… I must not surrender… I live for the battle… I am the battle…" 

 

"HEERO!"

 

Deathscythe smashed into the already-bruised Wing Zero with immense force, throwing it clear of the line of fire. The double-arc of Mercurius surrounding them scattered outwards for a moment, and then closed in on the two gundams. The pilot of the black gundam tried to hold the other back, but the Wing was thrust from his hold, flashing back to the endless field of Mercurius in terrible rebellion.

 

"I will not lose… I cannot be defeated… I am the nameless soldier… I hold life and death in these hands…"

 

"You can't win, Heero! Your gundam's screwed! BACK DOWN!"

 

Again, Deathscythe caught the white gundam in a formidable hold and dragged it backward, warding off the advancing Mercurius horde with several swings of its fiery trademark scythe. But then its pilot found the beam cannon of the Wing suddenly turned and locked on Deathscythe, and had no choice but to let go and let be.

 

"...youback down, Duo," said Heero needlessly.

 

"Nothing must get in the way…nothing **will** get in the way… I am invincible… I am… the perfect soldier!"

 

Wing Zero plunged into the star-traced field like a battle hawk, beam cannon raised threateningly but aimed at no one particular enemy. The Mercurius seemed unphased by this aggression, simply waiting for the moment when the kill was best. Heero came at them blindly and tried all at once to blast the masses, but they were too many and he was just a kid with a busted mobile suit. The battered and torn Zero sunk into empty space, and then, with a blinding flash, it burst into oblivion.

*** * * ***

 

"This light… what is this light…? My eyes… they're burning…"

 

"He's awake."

 

"Oh, really...?"

 

"Well, just **look**, genius, his eyes are **open**!"

 

"You didn't have to be such a jerk about it."

 

Heero narrowed his eyes against the over-bright lighting of the infirmary, ignoring those around him, and made a sound as if he were in great pain but dared not show it. Someone leaned out into the light, and he opened those deep sapphire eyes again, staring blankly upward at the blurred image of some familiar face he couldn't yet place.

 

"You feelin' okay, man?"

 

Duo. Heero made a throaty sound of impatience and tried to turn away, but couldn't for weakness and a lancing pain through every nerve in his body. Furious with this, he opened his mouth to speak, only to find even that was impossible. Watching his face closely, Duo winced and stood back again, allowing the light to fall once more.

 

"…you won't be able to speak or move much for a while, Heero. This time you really did it with that goddamn self-destruct act—"

 

"Calm down, Duo," came a softer voice. 

 

Quatre moved across to the bedside, a saddened smile of sympathy touching his child-like face. "You've broken half the bones in your body, Heero. What isn't broken is bruised or dislocated. And you've damaged your throat pretty badly… they want to operate for that, but can't until you're stronger. Jesus… you're lucky you're still here, Heero, luckier than anyone I've ever met."

 

Heero snorted and tried to speak again, his fury with his injuries rising fast.

 

"You shouldn't try to speak," Quatre warned quietly. "You'll only make things worse. Just be grateful you have that luck and that you're alive. Rest and regain your strength. And when you're back to your old self again, thank Duo for rescuing you out there. If it wasn't for him, the Mercurius would have fought over the carcass of the Zero and then you **would** be dead."

 

Duo put his hand behind his head and gave a modest grin. "I wasn't so great, I just killed off the Mercurius…"

 

Heero glared daggers at him and he fell silent. 

 

Quatre gave a small sigh of resignation and turned away, signaling the others to follow him out into the hallway. In silent procession, Duo and the other two pilots who hadn't spoken exited the room. Left to his own devices, Heero made another sound, and then turned his glare to the innocent ceiling as if he could sear a hole in it. 

 

"It's… burning…"

 

He closed his eyes tightly, and a single rebellious tear ran down his scarred cheek.

 

*** * * ***

 

"Why does it matter…? Why should it matter…? AND WHY CAN'T I DIE?!"

 

Heero clenched his fists, stretching the scabs to the breaking point and letting the blood flow free to the floor over which they lay. He was tied to the bed and too weak to break away from the tight restraints, and his inner will to be free from everything the world could do to hold him down was destroying him from the inside out. 

 

"Every time…why…can't I?"

 

"Heero?"

 

He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching as Relena stepped timidly across the threshold into his room. She nervously fingered a yellow rose that she held before her in both hands, averting her eyes as if in fear. Slowly, she made her way up to him and set the rose among the folds of the bed sheets, then drew back her hands and looked down again.

 

"I'm… sorry you had to end up like this… and they've got you all tied down, you poor thing. You want me to take off the restraints?"

 

Heero eyed the girl suspiciously, and then made an indiscernible sound and shut his eyes. Taking whatever this was for a yes, she bent down and reached for one of the hand restraints. But she then pulled back as if she had been burned at the sight of his bloody hands, shaking in emotion and empathy, eyes wide and in fear for him.

 

"Heero…" she whispered. "Did you do this to yourself…?"

 

He neither motioned nor sounded a reply. Relena again reached out and unfastened the restraint, and the instant that hand was free, he flexed it again, speckling her hands in blood. Willing herself not to turn away in disgust, she leaned over him and unfastened the other hand restraint, then took a few steps and finished with the ones over his ankles.

 

Liberated, Heero pulled his arms back and forced himself into a sitting position regardless of the immense, indescribable pain or the sounds of his bones moving in ways they should not. Relena winced and went back over to the bedside, placing her hand upon his shoulder. "You shouldn't try to move, Heero, you're just hurting yourself—"

 

A sickening thwap. A short scream. Relena fell to the floor with a dull thud and Heero pulled back his battered hand, eyes wide in shock. The princess lay upon the cold floor, terribly still, a bloody hand mark on the side of her head. He leaned over the edge of the bed and looked down at her, and as he did, the yellow rose fell and landed beside her hand.

 

"Is she… dead…?"

 

Heero's entire body was one throbbing mass of pain, and yet, he kicked his feet out over the edge of the bed and forced himself to stand upon them. This was absolutely excruciating—he nearly fell to his knees and cried out. But years of training against such things kept him upright, and he somehow managed to reach the fallen girl. Kneeling by her, he touched her neck gently, and when he found no pulse, his breath caught sharply. 

 

"I've… killed her… I've killed the princess in cold blood… and I have no way to escape… no excuse… nothing to hide behind this time… What am I supposed to do now?"

 

Heero shook his head in disbelief, the realization of what he had just done striking him like a physical blow. He was standing next to a dead member of the royal family who owned the spacecraft that he was on with his unmistakable handprint on her face and he himself in no condition to even attempt to get out… he was a dead man.

 

"…but why should it matter that I've killed her…? I was going to before…and if I was to die for that anyway, why does it matter now? I don't fear death…I **don't** fear death! What the hell is wrong with me?! I don't fear it…I don't…I can't…Why is it only now that I…no, I don't fear it, I don't fear death, I don't…I don't…"

 

The young pilot glanced around in paranoia, hugging his own broken body. The whitewashed walls seemed so oppressive and untrustworthy, their windows like eyes to watch his every move. What was wrong with him? He was the perfect soldier! He was trained for this! …and now he was going crazy for the fact, wasn't he…?

 

"I have to get out of this room now… I can't be near her… I can't be in this place… I can't take this room…!"

 

Heero staggered to his feet and in slow, painful steps, made his way to a door that seemed to move farther away with each step he took. Suddenly it was as if all the blood had drained from his head to make him dizzy, make him fall, seal his fate, and now he could no longer resist it. He swayed for a moment, and then fell hard to the icy floor of the infirmary.

*** * * ***

** **

The hall was dark, the room was dark, and Heero barely realized it when he finally opened his eyes, sprawled in the portal between the two. Everything seemed to hurt a thousand times worse than before, if such was possible. For the first time in his life and probably the last, and certainly never to be admitted to, Heero gave a tiny whimper. If he had had the strength or the nerve, he would have punched himself in the gut for doing so, but as he was, he could barely even think about such.

 

He probably lay there for a full twenty minutes trying to decide why they had not already come after him. Perhaps it was very late, or perhaps they just had not noticed yet. They would, and then he would be in for all hell. Grasping the doorframe with trembling hands, he determinedly pulled himself up and glanced about in the dark for any sign of life.

 

Nothing. For the moment, he was safe.

 

"I've got to get out of here…and I don't even know why. I don't fear it… I can't fear the consequences, I **don't**…"

 

But he could and did. Clinging to the wall as he went, Heero slowly made his way down the hall, leaving a wide trail of blood smeared across the side. He did not care to hang around and see if anyone noticed those marks, so it did not matter. With crippled hands, he mashed the buttons of an elevator and hobbled inside, allowing it to take him wherever it would.

 

"I don't understand it… just days go nothing like this would have mattered… and today I am a coward… No! I am not! I am **not**! I swear to god I am not afraid…!"

 

The elevator doors opened to a catwalk above the hangar. Heero, leaning heavily against the back of the elevator for support, just stared out at the hangar for the longest time; it was not until the doors started to close again that he pushed himself forward and caught them with his bloodied hands, forcing them to remain his gateway to freedom. Staggering out of the elevator, he caught a hold of the rail to the catwalk and hobbled wretchedly toward stairs that would lead him to spacecraft.

 

But upon reaching those stairs, he stopped short. Letting go on the rail, he drew his hands up to his face and stared at them, stared at the blood and the scars, and felt the incredible pain coursing as fire through his veins. Heero clenched and unclenched his fists, dropping blood upon the stairs beside his feet but not noticing the fact. As he tried hard just to touch upon the first step, his feet found the puddle of blood and he slipped, falling heavily against the rail of the first landing.

 

If he could have, he might have screamed, but the sound only came out as a muffled groan of anguish. Tears appeared, and for the first time in his life, Heero did not understand what it meant. He buried his face against his unbroken arm and ignored the tears, waiting and begging for this inconceivable pain to subside and just let him be.

 

"What's wrong with me…? Why can't I pass out, or just** die**? I can't take this anymore…"

 

Heero pushed his weight from the rail, leaving blood here as well, and limped pathetically down the next flight of stairs. He repeated this quite a few times, until finally he was standing on steady metal flooring. Upon reaching the end of the stairs, he moved across to a nearby sleeping guard and pulled his handgun from its holster.

 

"Good enough…"

 

Gripping the metal weapon in his one good hand, Heero staggered to the next level of catwalks and went out to the end of the first one he could reach as swiftly as his ruined body would allow. He raised it slowly and exhaled as if his life were upon that breath, practically exalted in the cold metal that brushed his forehead ever so lightly.

 

"I can't take this pain… I don't fear the aftermath and so it shouldn't matter… I won't be taken like a criminal, I'll be taken as I should be… because I don't fear it… I don't fear death… I don't…"

 

Heero's hand trembled, his finger closing on the trigger painfully slowly—

 

"DON'T DO IT!"

 

The shot fired, but Heero felt nothing… not yet. The gun had been knocked from his hand, but at the same time, he had been smashed to the floor like a ton of bricks had hit him and were still lying heavily on top of him. The once-contained scream of anguish deep within now tore from his broken body in a storm that could not be contained.

 

"Oh jeez, man, I'm sorry…"

 

Heero fell silent in an instant.

 

Duo stood slowly, taking the gun with him as he did. The other boy struggled pathetically to his hands and knees, turned, then crawled backward away from the braided pilot. Throwing the little gun to the meshy catwalk floor at his feet, Duo lowered himself to sit on his heels and looked into Heero's eyes as if he could read the story of the world there.

 

"I couldn't let you do it, I just **couldn't**…"

 

The injured boy choked on words he wanted so desperately to say, then growled furiously at his handicap. Duo made a pained face that revealed his sympathy for the first time. "Heero… don't try to—"

 

"I killed her," he finally forced his shredded voice to work.

 

Duo blinked. "…I know you did, man, it was an accident."

 

"But was it…?"

 

"It was and you know it. They can't hold you to something that was never meant to happen, and nothing is worth what you just tried to do. Don't give up on life now, man, it's just getting good! You shouldn't act so ashamed to admit defeat and pain—we've all done that sometimes. A lot of people still look up to you and admire your abilities… including me."

 

This time it was Heero's turn to be surprised. He looked down at his ruined hands—and past them through holes in the catwalk at the hangar floor—and slowly the tears came rebelliously back again. Duo patted his shoulder, gave a relieved half-smile, and rose stiffly. He tapped the gun with his boot, nodded at Heero, and turned on his heel and walked off into the shadows.

 

"I'll let you decide now, Heero… just try and make the right choice."

 

The crippled pilot raised bright eyes slowly to the metal object. It lay so in reach and yet so far away; he stretched his fingers toward it, caught the barrel in bloody digits, and drew it to himself.

 

"I… don't fear… but… I don't want it ended yet… do I?"

 

Heero flung the gun with a flash of light upon chrome over the edge of the catwalk. It crashed upon the floor a few moments later, and he knew it was all over for now. At the other end of the catwalk, Duo gave a satisfied smile and walked on with his arms crossed, leaving the other to make his own way back and such prove his strength.

*** * * ***

 

Dawn the next morning, Heero stumbled weakly into his room in the infirmary. There beside Duo with a bandage around her neck and a strange smile upon her face, stood Relena. The wounded pilot sagged against the doorway in disbelief and just stared past for a long moment, until Duo gave a sheepish grin and tried to explain.

 

"Guess neither of us are good at reading pulses, huh?"

 

Heero blinked, made an indeterminable sound, and allowed himself to sink to the floor, the realization of what he might have done for nonexistent reasons hitting him hard. He closed his eyes gently and pressed bloody digits to the metal frame of the door, the smile of his own signature recklessness slowly beginning to return to his bruised features.

 

**FIN**

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